


archival work

by shanlyrical



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Getting Back Together, Implied Sexual Content, Mission Fic, Pre-Star Wars: Attack of the Clones, Serenno, references to events depicted in the Darth Bane Trilogy by Drew Karpyshyn, shiploads of dramatic irony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2018-10-19
Packaged: 2019-07-06 14:20:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15887778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shanlyrical/pseuds/shanlyrical
Summary: Jocasta Nu, Jedi Master and Chief Librarian of the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, seeks evidence of Sith activity on Serenno.Count Dooku, former Jedi Master, Serennoan native son and Jocasta’s friend from the crèche, is eager to assist.





	archival work

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Burning_Nightingale](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Burning_Nightingale/gifts).



Jocasta Nu, Jedi Master and Chief Librarian of the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, stepped off the shuttle gangplank and onto _terra firma_.

The landing pad had been constructed on top of a tall pillar of stone rising straight up out of a gray and turbulent ocean. The craggy cliffs of the shoreline were a good fifty meters distant, their tops set at the same elevation as the landing pad where Jocasta now stood. A single, two-meter wide durasteel walkway connected the landing pad to the tops of the cliffs – her final destination.

The walkway had no railings, and as Jocasta proceeded onto it, a fierce wind blowing inland from the direction of the ocean whipped her robes violently around her body and yanked strands of hair free from her customarily neat bun.

A lesser mortal might have lost their footing and taken the deadly fifty meter plunge down to the cold waters below.

Jocasta, however, was no such lesser mortal, and she made this crossing with neither undue haste nor delay. To behave otherwise would be a sign of weakness, and if there was one thing this planet’s culture spurned, it was any sign of weakness or admission of frailty.

The planet in question was the Outer Rim world of Serenno. Its ruling noble families, the six Great Houses, were among the oldest and wealthiest in Republic, if not the whole of the galaxy. They were renowned for both their business investment acumen and philanthropy. But the prestige garnered by power and money also made them politically restive, and since the Ruusan Reformation nearly a thousand years ago, many members of Serenno’s Great Houses had advocated – some secretly, some not so secretly, and some quite openly indeed – for secession from the Republic.

Because of this, there was, to say the least, little love lost at present between the Great Houses and the Jedi Order. Successful completion of her mission to Serenno would require a local contact who would make the necessary introductions and advocate on her behalf, who already had the respect of the ruling noble families…or, better still, was a well-respected member of one of these families himself.

By the ever mysterious Will of the Force, it so happened that Jocasta had just such a contact.

He’d come down from his palatial manor to greet her personally, and he stood at the midpoint of the walkway, as tall, straight, and slim as a spear, awaiting her arrival. He wore a fitted shirt and trousers in the style of the Serennoan royalty, both sewn by hand by expert tailors, and draped over his shoulders was a cape of midnight black, so dark it seemed to devour the wan winter sunlight which fell upon it.

Once, he too had been a Jedi Master, but no longer. Once, he had been Jocasta’s dearest friend. She hoped that was still the case.

Jocasta approached the man and bowed deeply at the waist, her hands clasped demurely in front of her. “Count Dooku.”

“Master Nu,” he replied with a smile. “It is an honor and a pleasure to receive you on Serenno.”

She returned that smile. “We were younglings together in the crèche,” she said. “I have never been ‘Master Nu’ to you, and there is no need for such formality now. Please call me ‘Jocasta’.”

His smile widened. “Only if you agree to call me ‘Dooku’.”

“As you wish… _Dooku_.”

He appeared older than when she had last seen him, before he had resigned his Mastership in principled protest over what he had termed “the Jedi Order’s slavish obedience to a corrupt Senate,” but he was no less handsome, no less hale. If anything, he was _better-_ looking than he had been. Jocasta felt a fluttering low in her stomach at this realization.

Dooku held out his arm, the very apotheosis of the _noblesse oblige_ of his privileged status, and Jocasta took it. They walked arm in arm, side by side, in companionable silence, over the durasteel walkway and, once safe and sound on the opposite side, along a precarious, gravel-strewn path along the cliff edge, all the way to grand marble staircase leading into the ancestral manor of Serenno’s House Dooku.

It wasn’t until they were inside and out of the cold and the ocean wind that Dooku spoke again. “A meal has been prepared in advance of your arrival. We can make the necessary plans over supper,” he informed her.

* * *

House Nalju’s library contained archives covering a timespan of over three thousand years, all the way to back to the first civilizing wave of human colonists to settle on Serenno and the first Nalju himself. It was fascinating material, and if Jocasta had been at leisure to do so, she would have spent months – perhaps years! – perusing it all for the big and small stories to be gleaned from that legendary period in history.

Unfortunately, she was not at leisure, and her objective in coming here was documentation of a more recent vintage. That first Nalju to set foot on Serenno was but the first; he had been succeeded by many more men to bear the Nalju name as their one and only title and honor in an unbroken line, and a thousand years ago, House Nalju had achieved the apex of its power. The Count Nalju of that period was the most powerful man on Serenno, hands down, and one of the most powerful in the entire Outer Rim.

House Nalju’s star had waned, however, over the subsequent centuries, while House Dooku’s star had risen. Dooku had no difficulty effecting the introductions required to grant Jocasta complete and unfettered access to Nalju’s library.

Jocasta was intrigued to discover that it may well have been the specific events of her research focus which began House Nalju’s slow, irreversible decline. The attempted political assassination of former Supreme Chancellor Tarsus Valorum, practically on the doorstep of House Nalju – while on-world as Nalju’s guest – had focused the Senate’s attention on early Separatist factions on Serenno. Valorum was the architect of the Ruusan accords, which centralized political power over the Republic’s member systems on Coruscant and increased the state bureaucracy. Some people on Serenno perceived these reforms as anything _but_ reforms, and a handful chose to resort to violent protest. The Great Houses had rallied to the side of Count Nalju who – to restore the honor his House had lost in failing to detect the Separatist infiltration of his household staff – became one of Serenno’s staunchest pro-Republicans.

“The Sith are masters of misdirection,” Jocasta had previously told Dooku over supper. “Certain secret documents recovered after the Battle of Naboo have led me to hypothesize that one of the Sith Lords – perhaps Darth Bane himself! – was contemporaneously active on Serenno. By drawing the Republic’s gaze to Separatists on Serenno, the Sith were able to hide…and _survive_.”

“Fascinating,” Dooku had murmured, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

“The Council expressed its reservations: They felt the evidence to be weak and did not wish me to rely upon your courtesy, but I convinced them.” She had told him this in confidence; if anything, she had understated their reservations. Although he had been outvoted in the end, Master Yoda had been against the trip to Serenno outright.

“Of course you did.”

“In these uncertain times, all leads must be pursued to their fullest degree.”

“Agreed.”

Human memory could be woefully short, though, and within a few generations the Great Houses had once again reverted to their Separatist proclivities…all except House Nalju, which maintained its declared preference for federalism over local control until it was so diminished in standing that its preferences did not matter. Were – Force forbid! – some member system to secede from the Republic, Serenno would be a safe bet.

Dooku had rebellion in his blood, and Jocasta was unashamed to admit to herself that she admired him for it. The Council had put a bronzium bust of his head in the Temple Library in order to teach humility by commemorating its collective failures. There were only twenty busts, for only twenty Jedi had voluntarily chosen to leave the Order throughout its entire long history. To Jocasta, who ruled the demesne into which they were placed, the Lost Twenty were glowing, golden heroes.

Dooku most of all.

“Nonetheless, it beggars belief that there could have been _Sith_ on Serenno,” he had said. “I can hardly conceive of it! And yet, the dark side is nothing if not cunning. Anything is possible, and if any of what you hypothesize is true, it must be made known. If there is evidence of this travesty, I trust that you, Jocasta, will discover it.”

And lo and behold, after three nonstop, near sleepless days sifting through flimsi and ancient datacards, she believed she had discovered it.

“Come look at this!” she called out excitedly.

Dooku obligingly rose from where he had been seated and came to stand behind Jocasta’s left shoulder. Although she had not asked for his assistance with the dusty grind of archival work, he had cleared his diary of all demands on his time so that he could give her visit his undivided attention. He had been dutifully poring through documents with her in the archives, and the work went faster with an experienced intellectual like Dooku as her partner – it had certainly been more pleasant. She’d nearly forgotten how much she enjoyed his company.

The item in question she wished him to examine was a simple still holoimage of the sort people carry in their pockets as keepsakes. It had been found among the possessions of Valorum’s would be assassins. It depicted two individuals in a romantic embrace: a red-skinned Twi’lek and a petite human woman.

The Twi’lek was known to have been the ringleader who orchestrated the attack. The woman, however, was a mystery and was not mentioned in any contemporaneous records related to Separatist activity. She was young and attractive, with long blonde hair and carefully groomed, modest period dress – a low-level personal assistant in some corporate office in Carannia, perhaps, or a daughter of a middle-class family looking for a bit of thrill, a walk on the wild side. She wasn’t Darth Bane, and she certainly didn’t look like a Dark Lord of the Sith.

_Her image made Jocasta’s Force-senses tingle with foreboding._

There we legends, of course, tall tales and rumors. A Sith sorcerer who could hide in plain sight and drive men to fear and madness. Could that sorcerer have been this woman? The passage of years, the timeline – all perfect. Not the Master but the apprentice.

Jocasta Nu had found the evidence she’d been looking for.

* * *

“It’s an important lead. The Council agrees with me that the woman in the holoimage likely to be Bane’s apprentice and heir. We – _I_ – can’t thank you enough for your assistance in this endeavor, Dooku. It wouldn’t have been a success without you,” Jocasta said. Her voice was warm.

They’d returned to Dooku’s cliff side manor a few hours ago with the original holoimage and seven backup copies reproducing both the holoimage in question and all underlying metadata. The backups had already been sent via courier to Coruscant and would be distributed among the Jedi archivists; Jocasta would carry the original back home herself, and once there it would subjected to further scientific analysis and verification of its authenticity. She had no real doubts, though, and she’d just finished her private communique with Master Yoda, Master Mace Windu, and the other members of the Jedi High Council. They, as was their wont, trusted her intuition.

“A Sith apprentice, here on Serenno!” Dooku shook his head in amazement. His voice, too, was warm. “Who could have imagined such a thing? You are a wonder, Jocasta, to have discovered it.”

She’d always valued Dooku’s approbation, for it was never lightly given, and he showered her with it liberally now. It made her feel all fired up with enthusiasm. “I shall return to the Temple immediately! What we’ve learned here has opened up new avenues for further research, and I plan to pursue them as soon as—”

“Immediately?” Dooku interrupted. He looked distinctly…disappointed?

“Well, yes, I suppose. If I depart forthwith, I will be in time to give my usual lecture to the initiates in the use of the Archive…” She was temporizing, and she knew it.

“Or you could stay. For one night only.” He made it sound like a simple statement of fact. His expression was inscrutable.

“Well, yes, I could do that as well…” Jocasta was feeling a fluttering low in her stomach again.

Dooku said nothing further. Instead, he seized her by the shoulders and kissed her. His mouth felt right on hers. They never had been able to hide anything from each other – certainly not the love in their hearts.

It was one night only, but by the time that one night was over, Jocasta had agreed to quite a lot…and all of it was quite pleasurable.

She had no regrets.


End file.
